


The Devil's Bleeding Crown

by AshValentine6



Series: Aspirations of the Damned [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Child Abuse, Choking, First Time, Force Bondage, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, What are Feelings and How Can I Avoid Them?: A Novel by Hux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-02 04:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10209647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshValentine6/pseuds/AshValentine6
Summary: The destruction of the Order's most prized weapon shadows that of greater hindrances to General Hux and Kylo Ren. Loyalties lie among blurred lines and faiths crumble. This obstacle proves difficult, but could it be the one shot at escaping a treacherous death match with evil?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all I hope you all enjoy this first chapter! It has been a year in the making and I've poured so much love into creating this: my first published kylux story! I was majorly inspired by [hollycomb](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hollycomb/pseuds/hollycomb) and her series [Children, Wake Up](http://archiveofourown.org/series/386986) which has got to be my all time favorite fanfiction of Star Wars EVER. I want to thank her for all of this inspiration, no matter how directly (answering questions related to the fic) or indirectly (me being an obsessive reader) she has effected me, I am glad she has put so much of her beautiful pieces out there for all of us to read repetitively and fall in love with more every time. Thank you so much for reading my work and I appreciate you and whatever comments you might have immensely! <3

As sporadically as life emerges from the void is how quickly the walls come crashing down within the stronghold upon a doomed wasteland. Snow tumbles like boulders down the chasms that not moments before existed, canyon walls rising and crashing upon the air strips as frantic pilots scramble futility and are buried beneath rock and splintered trees.

 _Hux…_ A voice calls from the outskirts of the base, softly echoing in his ear as he dodges debris rolling down the valley and into the shuttles waiting. One such sleek onyx craft catches his eye and with a glimpse of chrome armor he darts after it, seeing a fallen officer kneeling against a toppled stone. With one fluid movement he slides the great coat off his shoulders and slings it carefully around the broken woman, blood trickling from nearly every orifice except her crimson eyes.

“Sir?” He lodges an arm around her waist and wrenches her out of the way of the wing of a broken tie fighter, throwing a wave of snow upon them and momentarily obscuring the shuttle from view. His eyes flit from each sharp corner, destined for either salvation or destruction in the next few seconds if he doesn’t find it. There, a flash of black- could it be? His chest deflates when he realises it’s only the shuttle.

“General! This way!” Dopheld Mitaka? Hux glances over his shoulder, the slight framed lieutenant brandishing a nauseating laceration slicing down his jaw and the side of his neck as if a gnarled claw had caught him. He must have been within an inch of losing his life, not to mention his head.

Hux follows Mitaka to the Upsilon class shuttle, Ren’s shuttle, and hurries his second in command whom he didn’t recognize before, Marlana Gaila- short, slim, and with long black hair she keeps pinned into her hat at all times- inside. For once it is disheveled and strewn out, no longer fastened per regulation. Luckily, Ren’s ever present medical detail is waiting, silent and eerie even as they are staff of the First Order to settle her on a cot and tend to her injuries.

“Supreme Leader commanded me to find a broken piece of property.” Hux says this with a fair level of humor in his voice to the pilot, his eyes flashing with recognition.

“Yes, sir.” Hux pulls his hand-held data pad out of a pocket in his uniform and types in a few commands, waiting as the coordinates engulf the screen. He flashes these to the pilot who inputs them into the nav systems and they lift off from the tarmac, just in time to see it crumble away into nothingness.

The journey is short, and Hux retrieves his great coat from the floor of the shuttle as he exits the stability and warmth of the ship to brave the frigid temperatures outside. The tracker appears as a red blip on the screen of his chronometer, looking warily around to optimistically lay his eyes upon a single heap of black in the snow and be done with this task. The ground rumbles, unstable beneath his feet as he carefully picks his way through the debris that litter the once peaceful forest now torn apart. The dot enlarges as Hux searches for Ren, the shuttle only 50 feet away and suddenly, lying close to the edge of a cliff the infamous knight materializes, defeated and unconscious.

“Ren!” Hux shouts over the cacophony of noise, the terrain on the cliff's edge beginning to give way a few feet from Ren’s motionless body. “I need a medical detail out here at once.” Hux calls in the command to one of the officers on board, approaching Ren cautiously. His face is covered in a generous amount of blood, long dark hair beginning to cake to his face leaving sanguine tracks across his alabaster skin. A gouge from the bottom of his right cheek stretches grotesquely to his left brow and his side is leaking blood steadily, staining the pristine snow like fine liquor.

“Ren, are you alive?” Hux murmurs this absurd question, his fingers ghosting up one arm as if to prod him but unsure whether that’d be a wise decision or not. He’d only seen Ren’s face once, when it was not in such a ghastly condition. It was younger, and much more human than Hux had expected. He’d anticipated a ghoul like Snoke beneath the mask before glimpsing the likes of a young man; freckles like constellations mapping his long and firmly structured face in the dark of the holo chamber.

Hux waits determinedly for the team to pick their way to him but the cliffside is still giving way, getting dangerously close to their two bodies. Hux huffs indignantly, knowing that if he doesn’t move this insufferable mass of impotence soon, they’ll both topple over the side into oblivion. Hux works his arms as delicately as he possibly can beneath Ren, his legs and torso. He was heavy, an outright dead weight in his arms and Hux begins to regret not visiting the modest gym on the _Finalizer_ as much as he’d of liked to. He’d never been weak, but Ren seemed to be much heavier than anything he’d ever lifted.

Never in his life did he expect to carry the apprentice of a dark lord through a broken forest in wake of his defeat. If Ren wasn’t mandated to be delivered personally to Snoke, then Hux would throw him into that oblivion himself or instead, leave without a second thought. He is nothing but a complete _ass_ , and not the kind of person Hux can appreciate co-commanding his flagship with, if he could even be considered a person.

He curses Ren in his head, thoroughly irritated to have to care for such an annoying creature that wasn’t even successful in arresting that wretched scavenger and traitorous Stormtrooper. “Defeated by inconsequential misfits, nonetheless. Failure, bloody _failure_.” He mutters under his breath aloud this time as the medics assist him onboard. Ren stirs at this and squints up at Hux.

“It’s possible the base… is not entirely stable…” He murmurs through grit teeth and Hux scoffs at the statement.

“Well _Ren_ , I’m so glad you’re here to tell me these things.” Hux retorts crossly.

Escaping the planet's destruction was simple, but somehow more arduous than Hux would expect. Starkiller _was_ the pride of his legacy and now as he looks out the porthole in the shuttle, the gleaming dust from the explosion glistening in the vacuum of space, his chest collapses heavily. Pride that he had evaded his own destruction fills his veins but the undercurrent through which his blood flows possesses only discouragement and failure.

Once onboard the _Finalizer_ a heavy air of tension settles around Hux in his brisk march to Medbay. He’d let incoherent Ren be swiftly rushed ahead of time as Hux had made sure the bridge was secure. His great coat swirls around him, providing a barrier against any bombardment of inquiry from the surrounding officers that rush about the ship tending to wounded. Sometimes the coat feels too flamboyant, something regal but less often ridiculous. It isn’t going anywhere, nevertheless, as Hux seems to consider that these internal musings are directly related to stress and sleep deprivation. He hasn’t come close to achieving a normal sleep cycle in the past seventy-two hours and perhaps the lack of basic necessities has finally broken down his carefully constructed barrier.

When he enters the exclusive center on the highest decks for especially high ranking officers, there are two present. One of his most trusted troopers, Phasma, is being tended to by droids whilst Commander Gaila is also receiving similar treatment though connected to a machine and unconscious, bacta pads tending to the worst of her injuries. He nods to Phasma as he approaches her, cropped platinum hair unkempt, minor wounds covered with ointments and now bandages.

“Sir,” She says despondently, saluting as per regulation and he nods again to acknowledge and dismiss the action.

“Any major injuries?” His voice is resigned, though not to the point of carelessness. He began to learn early on that showing small doses of compassion to those under your command was not weak but built trust and respect beyond that of any cold leader.

“No, sir. But…” Her eyes appear distant and brimming with unease before meeting his with weary strength and determination. “I must confess it was I who let the Resistance infiltrate the base. If it wasn’t for that traitor FN-2187 we never would have… no that’s no excuse, it’s my fault, I cannot apologize enough sir, I accept any form of punishment-” Hux simply holds his hand up to cut her off.

“Efficiency only, Captain. I won’t have so many needless words to explain one instance.” She straightens her back carefully though a little fear remains in her eyes. “I will not reprimand you, too many factors contributed to the destruction of Starkiller base. I will not have you taking the brunt of it, not when we must gather our strengths and find a way to strike a blow to the Resistance while they still believe they are a step ahead.” He isn’t sure why he is so lenient with Phasma but lets it go; blames it on lack of sleep. “You are however dismissed to your quarters as soon as your injuries are treated. Have medical staff relocate Commander Gaila to one of the other Medbays, this one is off-limits for the foreseeable future until otherwise ordered by myself or the Supreme Leader. Have I made myself clear?” Her demeanor changes to one of stoic appreciation; perhaps relieved he trusted her enough to let her give the order.

“Yes, General.” She stands and leaves the room, inputting a code outside barring restriction to anyone below her clearance level. He’d soon go to readjust it to his own as soon as Gaila was relocated. Now, he needs to tend to the business floating in a bacta tank at the back of the room, opaque glass concealing the apprentice of the Supreme Leader from any prying eyes.

Walking around to lay his gaze upon the defeated mess designated as Kylo Ren- as Hux sometimes sees him, an aggressive droid with a preposterous impulse to annihilate without any real emotion hence the terminology “designation”- he feels the faintest hint of amusement ghost through his mind before it flees in place of concern. Typically he’d feel nothing but contempt seeing how Ren loves to destroy his valuable equipment and cause havoc while simultaneously being the one thing in the galaxy that truly angers him to the point where Hux considers one of these asinine rages himself. At this moment, however, the way his body floats in the bacta the injuries looking too gruesome for Hux’s eyes to linger on too long with the bubbles gathering over the wounds makes Hux feel worry and despair. As soon as these emotions come they quickly flash away to be replaced with annoyance. Why in the hell should he feel sympathy for this man child who acts as if eternally adolescent beyond such years without any real hint at developing into an adult?

“Either going mad or dying… or dead…” He mutters, convincing himself now that he may be dead. Or he will be soon. The lights in the room are dim at a very low setting, perhaps twenty percent or so casting eerie shadows across the grey lines of the room. The moss hued glow from the tank being centerpiece of this otherwise characterless ship with its functionality being the primary concern- no room for decoration. It’s not as if embellishment is required; flamboyance is for the weak such as the New Republic. The strident edges making the Order what it is- a well oiled machine with the fundamental purpose of restoring balance to a galaxy of chaos.

As Hux sits he ponders his future, believing it to be coming to a hasty end. He’s never considered his own death much, but now it comes to him resentfully. He imagines it a dozen ways: Snoke using the Force to choke him through a transmission, him being executed publicly by the New Republic or the First Order, one for crimes the other for failure, Ren ordered to sever Hux’s neck from his body. He finds all but the latter don’t disturb him in the slightest. Why that is does not seem to present itself from some hidden place within just yet.

After pondering his almost certain demise, Hux sees to it that Gaila is transferred safely from the room and proper clearance is inputted before resuming his place before the bacta tank. For a split second a small flame burns the insides of Hux’s ribs at the sight of Ren’s mostly exposed body. Scars litter his skin- raised and white, pale pink in other places- a contrast to the dark freckles that spread across every limb and inch of skin as if someone had sprayed ink and it had stayed there permanently. Hux begins pacing after he’s confident his thought process has begun to transverse the bridge between functionality and downright hysteria in lieu of his absence of a proper sleep cycle. All of his mental routes are corroding with impractical and pointless concerns and emotions ergo prompting Hux to lie on one of the cots in an embarrassing fashion, setting his command cap and greatcoat on an adjacent bed.

His sleep is riddled with nothing but nightmares, waking fretfully from the same one repetitively; identical but different in circumstance. All involve the wretched knight himself, killing him in a hundred different ways, each more painful and more humiliating than the last. Finally he wakes, swearing off sleep completely for the time being when he believes it to be more exhausting than staying awake. How many times in just a few hours can a person envision their own death? Hux believes it to be a bad omen and focuses his gaze on the ceiling.

Shouldn’t he return to his quarters? Surely Ren didn’t need babysitting no matter how fitting the term was. After some consideration- which isn’t much, really- Hux remains in position, refusing to slip into unconsciousness but not entirely in reality.

 _Hux._ He startles out of whatever trance he’d been in, startled, and after a moment of shock he shakes his head and closes his eyes again.

 _Hux. Look at me._ This time he sits up sharply, eyes wide. No… it couldn't be, he was hearing things-

 _You’re not, quit panicking. Look at me. I need you to come to the tank._ Hux feels himself grow cold all over when he realizes who’s voice is in his head.

“How are you…?” He asks, looking at the bacta tank. Ren is awake, staring straight into Hux in the most piercingly intimate way. Hux feels tremors throb through him, feeling the relief from Ren when Hux meets his eyes. Slowly he swings his legs over the side of the cot and stands before the tank, subtle reflection catching his eye as he looks at Ren. It all seems so ridiculous, the oxygen mask covering some of Ren’s face as the grotesque rift that was previously crossing his face and seeming to split it in two is healing into an angry reddish slash, the burn from whatever shot he’d taken to his side pink. The most absurd of it all is when Ren brings his hand up to the glass and Hux follows albeit less enthusiastically.

 _I needed to see my face._ Ren speaks into his mind. It is still an unsettling feeling, having someone so easily burrowing into his consciousness. Hux snorts.

 _Can’t you just look in the reflection in the glass?_ He remarks in his head coldly; elusive unease still blossoming in his chest. He hears what sounds like a grunt in his mind.

 _Reflections can be misleading._ Hux scoffs, aligning this with some ludicrously prophetic utterance in correlation to the Force. A statement so vague as to approach meaninglessness. _I heard that._

 _Good, Ren. I am not sure what more you want now that you’ve seen yourself so I’ll be off to return to more important duties._ Hux says, remembering his holo and deliberating whether or not there would be a message from his officers there.

 _There isn’t. No one requires your attention at present. Except me._ Hux flinches at the dialogue. How atrocious of a statement as if he is in some kind of sentimentally trashy holofilm. Hux allows his hand to fall to his thigh. He rolls his eyes.

“What do you want?” Hux asks and Ren points up. Hux taps a few commands into the display screen and a med-droid exits its alcove to begin drainage and removal of the current subject. Hux stands back, now more alert than he has been since before the Resistance destroyed the oscillator; he’d had minimal sleep, as if it could really be called that, but with his duties returning to him in the form of attending to Kylo Ren and making certain he’s brought to the Supreme Leader in one piece he no longer feels the lingering haze of fatigue.

Ren still has the sticky fluids from the bacta clinging to his skin and when the lights are brought up to fifty percent he no longer appears sickly but shimmering with a kind of ethereal light. Hux sniffs in indignance, not associating this observation with his apparent but falsely recognized attentiveness.

“Supreme Leader decreed that I will be the one delivering you to him for your final stage of training. I am not clear on what that entails but those are my orders.” He states plainly as Ren stands under the stream of water to rinse off the remaining substance from his alabaster skin. Hux turns to watch the stars zip by and dares not turn when he hears Ren changing.

“I understand.” His voice is muffled by the sounds of fabric and after counting to sixty Hux turns. Ren is fully clothed in a plain black tunic and slacks, his feet bare on the cold durasteel floor. The scar that bisects his face looks less angry now and Hux has a fleeting thought on how faultless Ren’s face had been before but somehow the scar doesn’t count as anything diminishing.

Hux is sure Ren will be fine for now and resolves to ask him how he is feeling despite the shame that scorches his cheeks from within.

“I'm well enough general. I’ll ge-” As he says so his foot slips on the floor and he falls against a gurney, Hux surging forward to catch his arms before he loses his grip as well. Ren’s face is so close, his heated breath stroking Hux’s neck and he hurries to steady him away from his body, or as far as he can manage without letting Ren fall again.

“I don't think I've ever been this close to you,” Ren says this in a disembodied way, nothing comforting nor unsettling as it quivers on his lips.

“Well, I assure you it won't happen again. You need to lie down.” Hux sniffs and Ren shakes his head.

“I can't sleep here, not in this morgue.” Hux rolls his eyes as he helps Ren to the door. Ahh the eccentric murmurings of an unhinged child. “You don't like Medbay for a sleeping area anymore than I do.” Hating Ren for so easily plucking this from his mind he ducks his head down and assists in taking him out of the expansive room which, with the lights low, does in fact look like a mortuary and probably even more so when filled with ailing troopers and officers.

After inputting his command code to allow lower ranking personnel admittance he guides Ren through the corridors, almost entirely empty and devoid of life and Hux realizes it's o-three hundred and only the basic night shift staff are about, most likely attending to maintenance and the running of his flagship. Ren is such an encumbrance, barely lifting his feet to follow and Hux huffs angrily, knowing that if he weren't entrusted to bring Kylo Ren to Snoke he never would have lingered in that Medbay and would be soundly asleep now, or perhaps not.

Where Ren is concerned, _everything_ is complicated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The destruction of the Order's most prized weapon shadows that of greater hindrances to General Hux and Kylo Ren. Loyalties lie among blurred lines and faiths crumble. This obstacle proves difficult, but could it be the one shot at escaping a treacherous death match with evil?

After the relentless drag to a real bed Kylo realizes he isn’t in his own room. A quick consultation of Hux’s thoughts reveals the answer: Hux had brought him here without entirely thinking it through. Too tired. Exhausted even. Pointless to take him another hundred steps because Kylo is too heavy to carry by himself that much longer. Idiot.

“Put me on the floor.” He orders and Hux turns his searing gaze on him. Kylo had seen officers wither under that gaze. He just returns the stare. With less venom.

“You need an actual bed, not a hard floor. Don’t be ridiculous.” Hux mutters and Kylo smirks.

“Is that actual _concern_ for me, general?” He asks innocently, the venom in Hux’s eyes boiling into rancor.

“I may be demoted or killed if I don’t actually tend to you like a damn nanny droid; it’s hard to keep track of all the mistakes you make nevertheless! I’m expected to make sure you don’t injure yourself in some foolishly moronic venture! If it wasn’t for Supreme Leader’s _order_ , I’d have left you to explode on that godforsaken base!” Now Hux’s rage is out in the open, everything he’d been holding carefully at bay over the past few days culminating now into something full of fury and desperation. His face is bright red. He looks like a moro berry. The thought makes Kylo laugh. Instantly he regrets it. “Why you-” Hux drops him on the floor abruptly, pain stabbing his hip and Hux narrows his eyes angrily. “I am starting to believe death is a viable option over caring for your sorry ass!” Kylo can’t seem to get angry enough to retaliate as Hux throws his command cap and great coat on his bed and walks into the washroom, the door sliding shut in an effortless hiss. If it was a hinged door, Hux would have slammed it.

Kylo hauls himself into a sitting position and slumps against the wall, running his hand through his disorderly hair. He sighs. Thinking about the past twenty-four hours isn’t an option. He needs to focus on something else. His mind unintentionally goes to Hux’s; he’s washing his face and staring down at the basin he’s filled with cold water, his reflection distorted by droplets that fall from the points of his face: his lips, the tip of his rounded nose and the dark auburn hair of his eyebrows. Suddenly Kylo senses that it isn’t just the droplets but… tears?

 _Are you alright?_ Kylo sends and Hux’s eyes flick to the mirror to meet the thing he was staring through, sending a shock through Kylo at their ferocity.

“Get out of my head Ren!” He yells, clutching the nearest heavy object and flinging it into the mirror. Kylo hears the shattering and cursing from out here in the room, especially since Hux has succeeded in catapulting Kylo out of his mind, something not many… well _nobody_ has ever done in fact. Kylo stands and with a wave of his hand opens the door to the washroom, Hux sitting in defeat on the steel floor around fragments of glass, red dripping from some and down his right hand. Kylo now realizes he didn’t fling anything. Hux’s right hand is bleeding from multiple lacerations. He’d used his own fist.

“I have amounted to nothing but a bitter failure, struck apart by my aspiration for destruction. Now, I am _oblivion_ …” Kylo has never sensed such emotion from Hux, never felt a semblance of self pity from the general who vanquished an entire system with the force of his words, the ingenuity of his brilliance. Now Kylo feels lost in light of this, not sure what to do.

“How can you be nothing when you’re right in front of me?” Kylo speaks softly so as not to startle Hux, sending a thought without regarding Hux’s previous reaction to this form of communication. _You’re solid and still fighting, surviving. You aren’t nothing yet._ This seems to return Hux back to his body and he chuckles crudely. Kylo isn’t sure if it’s directed at his sentimentality however awkward it is to think he actually said that, or Hux has truly lost it.

“You know Ren, you never cease to surprise me. You always say the most bizarre things.” Hux hoists himself up, frowning at the mess that now litters his washroom floor and sensing Hux’s distaste for disorder Kylo uses the Force to assemble all the broken pieces in a sphere floating in mid air, Hux entranced by the experience. Kylo let’s it all fall into the waste chute and Hux huffs a little in disbelief. “I never knew your tricks were utilized for the duties of housemaid.” Kylo scoffs.

“They can do much more, I assure you general.” He whispers, opening a cabinet with his mind and retrieving some salve for Hux’s wounds before wrapping them in bandages, all without touching Hux once. Something in him urges against that, for some unforeseeable reason. Kylo isn’t sure why, doesn’t see a reason it would feel like revealing some latent truth within him. He steps into Hux’s space, Hux swathing him in an energy that seems suffocating but also redeems some deep reservoir of power within him, something that did not wake at the task he’d gone through with a few hours ago. There's a sort of mysticism about the silvery olive color that he hasn’t quite noticed previously. Hux’s eyes; how they dive in and eviscerate him but there is also something pleasant in the experience of being disemboweled alive.

Kylo eventually turns away, waiting for something that doesn’t come. He moves to the corner of the bed, sitting tentatively on the soft cushioning. He runs his hands through his hair and leans his forehead against his palm, the dull ache ever present. He feels a cool cloth pressing to his skin and glances up to meet Hux’s impassive eyes.

“It helps with pain,” He says distantly as he exits the area to sit at the desk in the main room. After a while of letting this cool cloth soothe his forehead Kylo lies back on the mattress and closes his eyes, recalling the last hours prior to his most recent defeat as his legs dangle off the bed.

It was in the plainest of terms, a humiliating loss. He feels exposed and disgusted at his performance, the way he’d let his guard slide past at the miscalculated prediction that the scavenger wouldn’t be able to fight as well as he after over a decade of training- he was blithely mistaken. Kylo was left out there among the snow and the destruction of the order’s most valuable weapon-  _Hux's_ weapon and pride of his genius- to suffer through the anger and confusion that has Kylo scrambling to understand just why he’d failed so completely. Even worse was having to be rescued from that seething pit of self-woe and rage by the loathsome but palatable General Hux who’d taken great pleasure in fetching Kylo from his beaten state long enough to snicker at him when he somehow carried Kylo onto the transport. Phasma said nothing on the ride- she looked like she’d been through hell as well.

This defeat was the most prevalent of his twenty-nine years. What is worse is his Master’s reluctance to respond in any way. Not with the Force and not via his secret channel. Snoke would talk to Hux- his thwarted and ill-fated general- but not his own apprentice. Perhaps Kylo had gone too far this time... fallen too absolutely to be recovered. It is useless, and he’d killed Han Solo, the father of the long forgotten and mewling child Ben. Kylo had shed himself of that facade long ago to achieve his true potential and become the sincere heir to Vader’s empire but to completely eradicate any ties to his past self with the death of Ben’s father was a big step to take and one that hadn’t been achieved without some level of difficulty if not its pointlessness. Perhaps that is why Supreme Leader is not responding to any forms of communication. He is wise and intelligent maybe he’d sensed the hesitation in Kylo’s hand, the brief flash of regret before he was reborn with the fury and peacefulness the shedding of those past ties had done but also the vacancy left in its wake. Kylo would never be Ben Solo again and could never return to that state even if he’d wished it to be true…

Then why the hesitation? Surely he doesn’t want to go back to that wretched life full of people who would demean his worth and would try to conform him into their own ideas of power. He would be contained, would be restricted. No freedoms from the scrupulous rules of the Jedi and forced to live a life only following one set path. That is what had perturbed him the most as a child. He would never be able to explore the galaxy like his family had, not free to follow passions and find new ways to delve into the many emotions within including the deep rooted desires. He could have been a lowly scoundrel like his father, join the New Republic Senate like his mother, or become a Jedi like his uncle. At first these prospects all seemed so enticing but after a time he began to realize that they were all restricting him from what he _could_ be and trying to draw him away from the more tenacious questions full of the curiosities of his family, dead now. The inquiries would become more frequent with age and more and more Kylo could feel his parents and uncle growing increasingly uncertain and alarmed by the increase in strength and determination to discover the truth. After all that’s what he’d wanted most- _truth_. No more lies and no glossing over of the facts of what had brought his grandfather to become the ultimate Force-wielder in the galaxy and just how he could achieve such a balance of power.

Kylo eventually drifts into a daze, sleeping in irregular intervals during the night. At one point he wakes to notice a sizeable heap in the blankets on the opposite end of the bed and comes to the realization that Hux may have crashed after it was physically impossible to hold his eyes open any longer. He isn’t sure what to do, moving on impulse as he crawls closer to the sleeping figure. Even while unconscious, Hux’s posture resembles rigidly exceptional disposition. His lashes brush his high cheekbones, lips trembling in his sleep and his proximity to Kylo is approaching keen awareness. Hux’s bed isn’t all that large, but it is large enough to fit the both of them comfortably without either of their bodies touching.

He scoots up, lying on his side as he faces Hux and attentively examines Hux’s mannerisms for the next few minutes. He notices how Hux curls in against the covers, desperate for some sort of comfort that the cool sheets will not offer. Kylo pokes around in Hux’s dreams, sensing the need for relief in warmth, softness… everything his conscious mind would not dare request.

He reaches out and tentatively presses his fingertips to Hux’s cheek, unsure what he is doing but some urge, Force related or otherwise, beckons him to do so. Hux does not stir at this but his dreams seem to light up in vivid color as if his touch had inspired some new level of euphoria within Hux’s imagination. Kylo smirks softly, noting the way Hux sees the leaves glitter in the late evening glow, rays of light dappling the forest floor he walks through and the sun itself, how warm it is, only began to shine on him when Kylo touched his cheek. For a split second everything is pure, nothing getting in the way of this moment until Hux wakes and stares at him, eye level and scowling.

“Get your hand off me Ren.” He does as asked and sits, huffing against the effort that shouldn’t be so taxing. Ren- wait Kylo- blames the wound on his side which is still tender and sore. Hux sits as well, glancing at the holo clock that, upon Hux pressing a button on its side, projects the time in the air above it with a faint blue glow.

“I still have five hours till my shift…” Hux says aimlessly. Kylo could have gleaned that from his mind if need be. He doesn’t know what to do other than to lie down again, facing the ceiling this time. Hux does so as well, though the tension building between them is nearly tangible. He listens in.

 _What is this big oaf doing in my bed? I suppose it’s my fault for bringing him here. Though it could be worse… his hand felt nice enough._ Kylo smirks at the thought and feels Hux narrowing his eyes.

“You’d better not be in my head. I thought I told you not to do that.”

“Hux, you of all people know that I don’t listen to your orders.” Hux doesn’t respond but instead closes his eyes again. Kylo follows suit, though not to sleep. He meditates, here, lying in Hux’s bed. Sleep does not befall him but images of the future do.

Dark beings cross a land full of death, rising and slashing at his ankles as he runs from them, sinking into the revolting mud. Something writhes in his arms, soft and tearing at the cloak wrapped around it and Kylo pulls back the hood to see Hux, eyes wild and full of fear. The vision flashes away to that of a pale sky, tinted pink. Suddenly he is aware he is lying upon grass, soft as it tickles his bare back and someone’s silhouette blocks the light, green eyes staring into him piercingly, revealing every dark secret.

“Ren… Ren…” Hux murmurs repeatedly. Kylo wakes in alarm, eyes gazing into those emerald ones like glittering kyber crystals.

“Ren, you were tossing and turning in your sleep. What in the stars name where you-mmph!” He exclaims as Kylo meets his lips in a surge of power, something so sure and clear mixing with the air in the room, the tension sliced with a knife as thick as Kylo’s intentions. He didn’t give himself time to think about it, only acting on the impulse provided to him by the Force. Hux struggles for a split second, his feedback muddled with nothing but relief. _Why is this the one thing I want…?_ Kylo doesn’t know what he’s doing, but reading some experiences from Hux’s mind helps paint a clear enough picture on how the action is supposed to be carried forth. He swipes his tongue over Hux’s bottom lip, soft and teasing as his hands rest on Hux’s shoulders. They move up, around his neck which sends a shiver through Hux until they come to rest in his hair.

“Your skin is soft…” Kylo murmurs, thumbs resting in the slight concaves of Hux’s temples. There he caresses, lost within the budding sensations under his skin. Hux stares at him incredulously, trying to determine the source of the comment or something otherwise. As if Kylo had implied something more.

 _You think too much… do you ever lose yourself to the simplicity of touch?_ Hux’s brow creases and Kylo kisses him again, lips gliding across frosty skin like ice beneath his lips. He meets the pulse point in Hux’s neck and he shifts atop him, a hiss bubbling up from his throat while his nails which appear harmless cut crescents into Kylo’s chest. It seems like ages until they separate again, Hux panting and glaring at him with unrestrained… what exactly? Craving…?

“Don’t you dare stop, Ren.” Hux commands, fingers brushing through his hair and taking hold at the back of his scalp. Hux’s lips meet the center of his neck, right on his adam’s apple as his heart beat quickens under the tender contact. He’d never felt anything like this, lost to pure sensation. Never this close to someone unless standing over their dead body. Combat was all he’d ever known and this wasn’t quite unlike it in a sense. It is close, heated, passionate. Kylo can feel every movement above him, can hone in on every inch of his skin that meets Hux’s soft and sure as if he was one with him.

Kylo can feel a slight press to his stomach and he anchors his thumbs in the waistband of Hux’s pants, still in half his uniform aside from the undershirt that covers his torso. Hux breathes wordless acquiescence into his throat, pulling on the dark strands as Kylo presses him into the bed softly.

He slides the pants off in one fluid movement, slipping between Hux’s cream white thighs before placing one large hand over each. A thought surfaces in Hux’s mind, his acknowledgement that bruises will form there. He’d always been prone to them as a child and the trait did not subside as he progressed into adulthood. Kylo squeezes then, not afraid to leave a mark on this wrecked general’s body. As if he were a consolation prize, something to be treasured and also exploited down to the root of his need.

Kylo slides his hands up to the peaked points beneath the top, Hux biting his lip violently as if to hold in any sound that may escape. His mind sings praise but Hux won’t allow a single syllable to fall from his lips. He won't give Kylo the satisfaction.

“So receptive to every touch…” Kylo murmurs against Hux’s ear, feeling the tremors wrack his slight frame like shockwaves of a hunger too long subdued. “And so desparate for this,” He growls lowly, nipping at Hux’s ear as he twists beneath him. A soft noise reverberates through Hux’s throat when Kylo slides his hand up the inside of Hux’s thigh, soft skin meeting the compressed material of his underwear. The bulge there is sizably large and no longer soft but hard and heavy and more than ready to be stroked.

Kylo dives into Hux’s thoughts again, gently sifting through old memories and words. It’s been ten years since he’s had this, the release from another long delayed by something other than his own hand. He fondles Hux’s cock, reveling in the soft noises that leave Hux’s swollen lips at the feeling.

“Do something more than that, unng… can’t you tell that with your _powers_?” Hux’s bites sarcastically and Kylo squeezes hard, a prick of pain stabbing at Hux though not without a fair amount of pleasure.

“I’ll take my time, general. After all you deserve to be tormented.” Kylo grins, Hux fully hard now and enraged. He bites his lip, pulling Hux’s shirt off with ease as he lowers his mouth to suck marks into the pale skin and uses his tongue to smooth over them as if he’s sealing in some kind of magic that will leave these imprints emblazoned on Hux forever. His tongue flicks greedily over the peaks of each nipple, teeth dragging over them as the moans in Hux’s throat only become more frantic. His fingers slide deftly inside Hux’s briefs, brushing up against his soft skin inches away from the throbbing cock that is pushing futilely at the fabric containing it.

“How badly do you want to be touched?” Kylo mutters, more like a deep growling. Hux glowers at him with unrestrained annoyance.

“Read my mind, I’m sure you already know. Are you brain dead?” Hux snarls. It’s even more attractive seeing him this way. Kylo sits back, surprised by the thought. He’d never thought of Hux as attractive, had he... ?

He pulls the briefs off, allowing Hux’s cock to spring free, pulsing with need and dripping with pre come. Kylo swallows a moan, hell bent on satiating his irresistible want with Hux’s dick. He can’t understand why, at the moment, that he possibly would want anything else.

Kylo wraps his hand around Hux’s cock, enjoying the breathless noise that escapes his lips at the feeling. He gives it a couple slow, gentle strokes before scattering kisses across Hux’s thighs, slow, almost impossible to do, but necessary. A plan begins to form in Kylo’s mind, something that he’d never considered but now it sits heavy as a boulder at the center of his chest.

He uses the Force to recall a bottle of something resembling lubricant from Hux’s washroom, his mind rummaging through the durasteel cabinets for it as Hux’s eyes widen when it passes through the air effortlessly. Kylo picks up a sense of unease in the air and remembers Hux’s minimal to zero experience except that of a few hand jobs from other cadets and more recently, though ten years prior, a fellow officer who knew how to give excellent head. Kylo growls, Hux gnawing at his bottom lip and mistaking this as it was directed at him. In a way it is, but it is also a declaration. He’d show Hux how a Force user could give head while simultaneously playing on every minute twitch and desire.

“You’re hard, and just for me...” Kylo murmurs, his tongue lapping hungrily at the base of Hux’s dick, fingers dragging down to tease at Hux’s hole with a little of the lubricant he’d squeezed there without Hux’s notice. He gasps in response, weaving his fingers into Kylo’s hair and tugging softly. He licks all the way up to the head, sucking delicately before pushing his lips to meet Hux’s skin, pleasantly filling Kylo’s mouth and a slight portion of his throat.

“Fuck- _Ren_!” Hux cries, obviously unsuspecting but largely appreciative of the action. For a split moment he stays motionless, drowning in Hux’s praise aimed Kylo’s way but again left unspoken. It was like tasting a delicacy, two options at once and Kylo knows he must chose or force being consumed before this has even begun.

He bobs his head on Hux’s trembling shaft, his tongue swirling around it effortlessly as if it was a task he’d performed millions of times. Kylo stifles a laugh, feeling almost sorry for anyone who didn’t have a sixth sense such as this. It was almost astonishing, shockingly intimate and he resolves not to look Hux in the eyes. It’s the one thing that would bring this encounter with Kylo’s mouth to an end far too quickly.

“Now I’ve got that filthy mouth occupied,” Hux mutters, slightly amused. A vexatious smirk pulls at his lips and Kylo chuckles, the vibrations shutting Hux up effortlessly and changing the expression on his face.

 _But you’ve forgotten about this._ Kylo tssks and Hux narrows his eyes, diminishing some of his enthusiasm but not for long as his hips snap up and his cock acts as an efficient muzzle. Kylo suckles determinedly, wild with desperation at finally being able to do this. He has the phantom-like notion of a feeling that there is a specific reason he is finding himself so enthusiastic to perform this, wouldn’t anyone have fit the bill? It was almost as if he were destined to suck Hux off.

 _Careful…_ He warns himself. _Don’t wander too closely to attachment._

“Ren…” Hux’s hips begin to spasm up when he’s close and Kylo pulls off, a whine originating in Hux’s throat to protest. “Did you think it would be that easy?” Kylo chuckles darkly and Hux, unable to scowl or make any disapproving expression whimpers. Kylo’s slicked finger pushes into Hux’s clenching hole, moaning for him in approval before Kylo pushes fully in, crooking in the approximate way Hux wants him to. For a while he does this, adding a few more digits at a time to drive Hux even more mad with lust, Kylo’s dick so full now he’s afraid he’ll come from the wavelengths of pure satisfaction rolling off Hux.

After he catches Hux’s hand inching closer and closer to his own dick to relieve himself of this torture, Kylo restrains his wrists above his head. This sets off some kind of fire in Hux’s eyes, greedily devouring his stare as nothing but worrisome lunacy at the move and an outpouring of pleasure indicating Hux’s reaction.

 _Fuck me Ren… now._ It is more of a command than a plea, Kylo not having to be told twice. Keeping control of his urges is already tipping too close to the point of discord.

He does as asked, slipping off the slacks that he flings off the bed. For a moment Hux is levelheaded, starring in a state of near disbelief and reeling as his thoughts enter Kylo’s mind by pure circumstance.

 _I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cock that big..._ Kylo makes a kind of half hearted chuckle, almost nervous but instantly that’s replaced by disgust at the emotion and bravery. So what if he’d never done this? It wasn’t as if it were some monumental task or trial. Kylo had known those, familiarly, had been through many battles which proved more difficult than this simple animal like impulse. For a split second he wonders if this is part of something larger, something that is begging for him to notice slipping beneath his awareness in unforgiving waves. A whisper rides on the currents of the Force and eventually becomes a cacophonous shout beseeching his consciousness to be heard by him. As soon as he’s zeroed in on it Hux growls.

Kylo returns to the reality in which he resides, almost troubled by the way he’d seemed to slip too effortlessly into meditation in the midst of such a physically demanding situation. He inhales deeply, willing this setting to imprint into his mind as he slicks his cock with a generous amount of lubricant before bringing Hux’s legs up to rest the backs of his knees on Kylo’s shoulders. He teases Hux’s hole with the tip, cursing under his breath before, as gently as possible in mind that Hux has never had this as well, pressing in. He drapes himself over Hux, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks and or a split second Kylo brushes his thumb over Hux’s lips, soft and nearly nondescript but still there and Hux opens his eyes to hold that gaze with his own as Kylo slips inside.

“Fuck…” Hux exhales choppily, closing his eyes again while straining at his bonds and this seems to torch something in Hux again at the realization as his chest flushes and his cheeks turn rosy in the low light. “You’ll be the ruin of me…” Hux murmurs in Kylo’s ear when he moans there, the breath drifting across Hux’s neck as he presses on, Hux’s words becoming nonsensical drivel as soon as Kylo is all in, deeper than he’d even thought possible… The words feel strangely right, melting into his skin as Hux kisses Kylo’s neck softly at first but once Kylo’s begun to move after quite some time of staying completely still and drinking in the thousands of sensations dancing on his skin- Hux bites.

It’s nothing really at first, just nibbles pressed to Kylo’s shoulder but once he’s fucking him with reckless abandon, gripping Hux’s hips so tightly he’s more than certain they’ll be evidence of such in the morning, Hux’s teeth become as sharp as blades. He’s right to assume that there will be marks, his neck is throbbing but every pulse of pain goes straight to his dick and it’s almost too much, all at once, to much that his right hand comes up to grip Hux’s neck and thrust him back into the bed.

“Yes, Ren, that’s-that’s right fuck!” Hux chokes out brokenly, so drowned in appreciation that he feels like he’s being worshipped. A image propelled forward by some kind of ridiculous pride makes him imagine he’s an altar of some type and Hux is bowing before him, gasping for air in little pants of pleasure as his hands and feet are bound. His cock is hard, red at the tip and a kind of celestial flush cloaks him. Kylo draws back from the image, realizing now that it wasn’t his thought but Hux’s own fantasy. They are melding so completely together that Kylo can’t tell where one of them ends and the other begins.

Kylo digs his thumb into the center of Hux’s throat, knowing that he wasn’t pressing hard before but now his grip tightens which sends Hux’s thoughts into wordless bliss. Kylo uses the one limb not occupied on Hux’s cock, invisible but perfect for this and Hux loses his grip to unconditional surrender.

Once Hux comes Kylo can’t hold on to his willpower any longer, yearning for this moment longer than he’d really let himself conceptualize. Perhaps it wasn’t always Hux he’d desired, perhaps it was just someone lonely and desperate enough to want him but something in him tells him it had to be Hux, right now, right then, in this moment in which all of this cultivated into what is happening now. He’s spilling into Hux who’s whimpers and moans echo in Kylo’s mouth as if he’s repeating them. They’re riding out the divine aftershocks together, too spent to move and lying with every inch of their bodies in contact.

What seems like hours but is most likely minutes finds him disconnecting himself from Hux who’s drooled a bit from the climax of the act they’d just performed, his mind still to pleasantly sex-blanked to really do anything other than moan softly. This tears at Kylo who licks up Hux’s bruising throat, fiercely requiring some kind of comment from the now quiet and very satiated general beneath him.

“Fucking… stars Ren, I saw stars…” He whispers, his voice never as tender as it is now. Even the timbre in his tone is different, more light and velvety as it soothes over Kylo’s sweat slick skin. Kylo smiles for the first time in years it feels like; genuine and almost tangible as if he were proposing to give it to Hux and have it stored away, safe and protected.

“What comes next?” Kylo utters this gently as if he was entailing that the entire universe was teetering on a ledge that only Hux himself could balance. Kylo feels strangely stripped in this way, not of his abilities- he almost feels as if he’s never felt this much power before- but in some other way… a way in which he’s never felt so vulnerable to someone else and also trembling precariously closer to either oblivion or glory.

“I believe you’re also as shattered as I am and still so fresh from battle, I don’t think it wise for you to go anywhere at the moment but stay in m- in bed.” Hux measures out, stopping himself before saying _my_. Kylo doesn’t dig for the answer, just remains impassive but also enraptured.

“Of course general, I defer to you.” Kylo speaks haughtily, enjoying the look of incredulous distaste as Kylo laughs, louder, more jubilant than anything he’d dared let pass his lips since he was a small child. A brief vision flashes before his eyes of a boy with neatly clipped brunette hair and some ridiculous padawan braid, surrounded by a meadow as he laughs comically at something unseen. Kylo feels like this is a memory, though not his own but isn’t tempted to feel panicked.

After all, he thinks as he sinks into bed and Hux whispers “Lights, zero percent,” when Kylo drapes an arm over him, both of them too exhausted to move, what deleterious situation could possible take hold after what had just transpired?

Invincibility was only the first step in a long awaited spiral into the depths of hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The destruction of the Order's most prized weapon shadows that of greater hindrances to General Hux and Kylo Ren. Loyalties lie among blurred lines and faiths crumble. This obstacle proves difficult, but could it be the one shot at escaping a treacherous death match with evil?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been neglecting this fic!!! Sorry to everyone that reads it, I don't know if there's many... but I hope the people that do like this next installment! The whole planning process is so long and I am really hoping to carry this fic out to a glorious conclusion and maybe finish it by the fall, or at least before The Last Jedi comes out because by that time I am sure all of my ideas will be wrong and right now I like the air of mystery so here it goes!! I might also edit the crap out of the second chapter of this, my apologies, I just don't like the way it is really and I feel it was rushed. Anyways, hope you guys like this!! I appreciate this entire fandom and I am thankful for the views and comments this has gotten already. Thank you for standing by me in my journey. <3  
> *** THIS IS IMPORTANT ***  
> There is a flashback memory of child abuse in this, it's very brief but I wanted to let everyone know just in case.

Hux wakes to the sound of his washroom door whisking open. For a moment his surroundings evade him, seeing a dark silhouette standing in the light from the doorway. He jerks out of grogginess to stare at the mysterious figure returning his gaze, towel drying his dark hair while another wraps around his hips.

“You’ve been sleeping for a while,” It’s Ren. His monotonous voice isn’t hard to mistake even without the vocoder. For a moment Hux is beyond perplexed at his current circumstances, the haze of last night coming back to him in the form of an aching ass and bruises that scatter across his skin like some kind of perverse painting. Ren’s neck and shoulders have red imprints like teeth marks, a few that had punctured the skin. Did Hux do that?

“What…” Hux turns, his chest pinching when he realizes how uncomfortably unclean he is. How could Ren have held all of that in? His sheets are ruined… He recalls the time on the holo clock and sighs, an hour still ahead before he needs to be on the bridge. He hauls himself into a sitting position to glare at Ren. Droplets of water roll off his skin and along the freshly healed wound of ragged scar tissue on his side. He seems to enjoy Hux’s staring, smirking a bit at the corners of his lips.

“You put on quite a show last night, Armitage.” Ren grins, presumptively feeding off of Hux’s anger. Hux attempts to instruct himself not to let it play across his features as he sniffs and holds his chin high to stand before Ren resignedly.

“Don’t presume because I allowed you to fuck me that we are on a first name basis now, _Ben_.” This has the desired effect and Ren growls which is really more of a snarl really, holding Hux in a full body restraint. His eyes are dark, glittering, like that of a predator that’s sighted it’s prey. Hux resists the urge to go into a kind of instinctual panic and inhales deeply when he feels himself being scrutinized under Ren’s gaze. He slips the towel off his hips, furthering Hux’s belief that he’s some wildly exotic creature as his lips pull up into a dark grin.

“I’d offer you some advice; treat me with some respect and perhaps you’ll get a lot more than what you’d hoped, yeh?” Hux narrows his eyes, willing himself to remain silent. Hux wants to bite back, shove it in Ren’s face that he hadn't hoped for anything from this insufferable wizard. Ren tosses the towel onto him and releases his hold, making Hux stumble. He can’t seem to shake off some kind of lingering daze leaden with the arousal of their most recent engagements and makes adjustments to his morning schedule, opting for a cold shower. Ren has probably used up his hot water ration for the day in an attempt to annoy him. Of course he’s utilized the last clean towel.

Hux has to admit, albeit annoyingly so, that Ren is exceptional in bed. He’s never participated in intimacy with a Force user, but he’s never really had a taste of intimacy of any kind before Ren. It was always hasty before, desperate. Last night had been over fairly quickly but with a sense of something more, as if Hux were outside of time and when he returned to it he was asleep. In Ren’s _arms_.

Hux enters the washroom, feeling bitter about how he’d let his composure slip enough last night to break his mirror. His knuckles ache as he retracts the bandages, the cuts seeming to have gone down peculiarly to the point of pink scratches. He shakes his head and throws the bandages into the incinerator, retrieving a smaller mirror from the cabinets before slipping into the stream, trying and failing to forget what transpired last night.

It is as if Hux is a map and Ren is an experienced adventurer, finding every secluded truth his body is willing to offer in exchange for the deepest sex he’s never allowed himself to think he’d even retain a taste of. Ren was everywhere, smothering him in immediate reality. He’d had no time to think of anything but the tide of pleasure ridden existence that was ensuing. Hux had been in some state of listlessness, allowing it all to happen strictly because he didn’t believe it to be so. It all seemed so dreamlike, vague at first and then catapulting him into such a vivid experience as he’d humiliatingly moaned Ren’s stupid name over and over like it was the only rope he’d had left to hold on to after Starkiller was destroyed. He doesn’t feel regretful though, the sleep he’d gotten after feeling like the best he’s had in over a decade. He frowns, sighing when he realizes that this may become a liability. Nothing in him feels a specific attachment to Ren. It is more over an attachment to what he can _do_. Hux has been in need of something of this caliber for quite a while, his work burying him in such a large amount that there was scarcely any time for the required sleep allotment he’d assigned to himself.

He’d been living more like a droid and not like a functioning being.

After his shower he goes through his usual rituals, taking more time to carefully assure every strand of hair is in place before leaving the washroom. As he's predicted Ren is gone. This doesn’t have the desired effect but Hux shakes it off nevertheless. Pointless need punctures the sides of his abdomen for a split second and Hux shakes his head.

_Needless, irrelevant._

He finishes dressing and is in the lift ahead of schedule, unable to shake the feeling that something is looming on the horizon. Which horizon is mysterious at the moment, but it’s enough to pester his thought process as he arrives on the bridge and oversees the minor functions to maintain the sleek performance of his ship. The coordinates provided only after they’d entered hyperspace and darted cleanly away from their reeling defeat indicated that the planet on which Kylo Ren was to be delivered was still four days away. Surely that isn’t the feeling? Or perhaps it is. Hux associates it with ridding himself of Ren but somehow it doesn’t ring true in his mind. It is a different type of predicament altogether.

“General, our-!” One of his bridge officers only gets in a couple words before the ship rocks violently and breaks out of hyperspace into a system not far from the rendezvous point. Stars swing wildly by as Hux grips the nearest console, wishing he’d had his greatcoat on but it’s surely still in his adjacent office on the floor now most likely.

“Status report!” Hux shouts, righting himself as the ship does. Officers scramble back to their positions.

“Two enemy cruisers are coming out of hyperspace twelve thousand kilometers off our starboard bow!” One of the lieutenants calls to him as he presses a button on the main console.

“All personnel to battle stations. We are in red mode.” Hux withdraws as the lights dim on the deck and red lines flash down the smooth grey durasteel, sighting something black flash in the corner of his vision. Their is another blast that rocks the ship and another series of lurches that Hux knows and resents to the point of fury. They’re boarding _his_ ship?

“Sir, I’m reading three squadrons of Resistance fighters along with several breaches to our hull in the beta deck levels,” Gaila calls from her post and Hux nods to Major Slovv.

“Dispatch all TIE squadrons and send troopers to every juncture.” Hux orders. Before he can issue another command the viewports are blasted open and his body wrenches in the direction of open space, out into oblivion. He just has time to grab hold onto a vent until he latches his arm onto a scrambling Unamo, gripping madly before the emergency doors can careen into motion. He uses every ounce of strength he has to swing her up onto a secure ledge but this has only proceeded with a price and soon he’s slipping, falling, being sucked into the vacuum of space-

His body is held as if he’s at the end of a ladder, a hand reaching out to grip his forearm and when he cranes his neck to see who’s done it there’s no one but Ren standing on the tipped over catwalk a few yards away, a satisfied smirk stretching across his features… without the mask. Was he hallucinating? He pulls Hux back enough to grip his actual gloved hand and his stomach pitches at the action, hauled into the safety of the bridge as the ship’s deflector control kicks on and the doors seal over the now shattered silica viewports.

“Careful, General.” Ren murmurs teasingly, echoing a previous statement Hux had made on this very bridge. His face bared to the world is almost unsettling, shameless in his revelation to the crew as his voice acts as a purr that brushes down Hux’s spine like a placating brush of Ren’s hands. Hux turns away, shelving that analysis somewhere into the recesses of his mind as he holsters a SE-44C pistol off its wall hanger. He stops along the way to sling his greatcoat over his shoulders and places his command cap on his head, hurrying down to deck 15; there was no way he wasn’t going to play some part in ridding the vermin from his ship.

He takes the lift down with Ren and a few more officers hot on his heels. He normally will stay out of the line of fire but he can't let this massive indiscretion unfold without his watchful eye promising that it will be done correctly.

“I’m impressed, I must admit, to see you joining the front lines Hux.” He bristles at Ren’s use of his surname in front of his other officers. Hux stands up straighter, ignoring it and nodding briskly as he would to anyone else.

“I don’t want those filthy rebels scuffing up my floors.” He says sharply as the lift meets its destination and the far off sound of blaster fire can be heard. The doors open and he rushes out, Ren not far behind as a division of troopers meets them near the aperture just fifty feet from the breaches in the hull.

“Report,” He calls to the highest ranking personnel on hand, some of the troopers staring in Ren’s direction in stunned astonishment.

“They’ve breached near the main medical bay. We’ve suspected this as a type of way to cut us off, sir. From what our sensors are picking up, there are roughly eighty of them left. We started at one hundred.” It’s a female trooper who reports and Hux nods appreciatively, recognizing her.

“Good work Captain Tulana.” She acknowledges, her black cape torn, the blue trim burned by blaster fire. He ducks around a corner and meets enemy fire, drawing his pistol and aiming it at several Resistance fighters who’ve jumped up from behind a few water barrels at an unwise time. He’d always been a good shot in the academy, shockingly precise but he’d decided to go with his physical reflexes. He’d been much better at martial arts.

Ren, who’s been standing there listening intently for whatever purposes _after_ the report has been communicated finally seems to leap into action, walking out from behind the wall unguarded while drawing his saber. The blasted thing always makes Hux jump, the blade roaring to life in an angry ignition of red like descending hellfire as he advances through the corridor. He deflects the blaster bolts off the roaring saber and Hux files in behind him, taking shots over Ren’s shoulders while avoiding any damage himself.

“Hold fire! All at once!” One of the Resistance commanders shouts and the firing stops. “Now!” Ren holds a hand out, catching them all with a kind of grunt, his teeth clenching with the effort. He’s only seen less than a cycle of rest and worry begins to strip at Hux’s consciousness. He vaults out from behind Ren and fires at them, picking off five in a matter of seconds.

“Duck now.” Ren growls and Hux does as ordered, flattening himself to the floor behind a crate as Ren joins him, the bolts hitting the wall and causing the overheads to flicker fitfully. Ren leaps from behind the crates, dodging more bolts as he presses on, Hux following suit once again. Things progress this way for some time, the two of them fighting side by side as they purge the long arch of deck fifteen with ruthless valor. Stormtroopers attack from every interstice and eventually every repugnant soldier is down, the TIE squadrons having destroyed the forcibly breached docking ports.

“General, the rest of our fleet has come out of hyperspace and has engaged the Resistance ships. The corellian corvette is being destroyed as we speak and the dauntless cruiser is under heavy fire.” Gaila patches through his comms and Hux presses the button as he rushes beside Ren around a corner.

“Acknowledged. We nearly have things taken care of down he-” A blaster shot hits his chest- too close to something perhaps fatal- and he reels backward against the wall, just having enough time to bring the toe of his boot up to kick at the Resistance fighter who was feigning death in the stomach. Hux’s pain does not register instantly and the man stands up as Hux uses his pistol to land a blow to the jaw that knocks him back. Before the man can react he freezes in place, lifting in the air before his neck crushes around an invisible grip, blood dribbling out from his lips. Hux stares at the scene, transfixed before the pain in his chest becomes knifing agony and he stumbles.

“Hux,” Ren’s voice sounds labored and Hux squints up, catching a brief flash of Ren’s brown eyes before his vision tilts. “Just- hold on. You’ll make it.” Ren lifts Hux into the air with relative ease, throwing him across his shoulder as he marches to the infirmary.

“Not the main medical bay, it’s too overrun at the… moment.” Hux huffs, swallowing a tortured groan. “Take me up to the officer's bay.” He bites at every syllable, his vision going spotty in some places as he tries to concentrate on the smell of smoke, the intervals between each flash of the overheads, something other than the excruciating pain that feels like it’ll be the last thing he knows.

 _STAY AWAKE!_ Ren’s voice has never neared a shout in his mind and for a moment he startles, panicking before realizing it is having the desired effect.

“Fuck, we’re not going to make it,” Ren curses before setting Hux down quickly behind some toppled beams. Hux peers up at him curiously, somehow keeping his logical and calm behaviour intact. Ren pulls his gloves off, bringing his fingers to rest on Hux’s temples and memories of the previous night resurface, filling Hux with a sort of uneasy tranquility to which he’s never have associated such tenderness to a memory of that sort before. His knuckles are lacerated and for a moment a thought crosses his mind before quickly fleeing.

“What are you doing?” Hux mutters, too far gone at the moment to care for a response. Ren doesn’t answer anyway, closing his eyes in concentration. The slash on his face from the scavenger has seemed to shift across his brow, healing more into a thin line that crosses his closed eye. He’d heard of some wounds healing strangely while in the bacta. Hux himself had been cut when he was a boy and the scar nearly shifted two inches to the left.

Hux feels his awareness draining away from him, slowly leeching from some space above him. He opens his eyes when Ren groaning draws his attention. His brow is furrowed, lips knit in a tight line that the blood disappears from his overly large lips. Hux cries out when the pain in his shoulder becomes unbearable and Ren’s eyes suddenly snap open, the brown all but gone and replaced with an unnerving crimson.

“Ren, what’s happened to your-” Hux is blinded by another wave of pain as Ren closes his eyes again, bringing his forehead to rest against Hux’s as he gasps in shallow breaths, the pain easing from Hux like a caress. Ren huffs out one final breath before disconnecting almost painfully from Hux in whatever psychic way he’d been practicing, collapsing beside him and staring blankly at the ceiling. Hux tears at his uniform tunic, his skin as fresh as it had been this morning, the blaster shot gone. He turns abruptly to Ren, shock clouding all rational senses as he notices the material above Ren’s shoulder going damp. He pulls his emergency knife from his belt and uses it to cut at Ren’s shirt, ripping the tough fabric away to reveal an identical shot to Ren. What in the name of-

“Ren, you foolish imbecile what have you done?” Hux murmurs, sending out a distress call on his wrist band from his current position. Within minutes medical teams descend on the area, Hux picking up Ren’s lightsaber and staring at it softly before hitching it into his belt for a second time, following swiftly after the man that has just saved him.

 

***

 

“Status,” Hux speaks softly to the chief of medical- a burly man who looks like he might have been a stormtrooper had he been put in the program and not for his impressive medical expertise.

“Lord Ren seemed to suffer from a fatal blaster wound but thanks to arriving here in time, he should make a full recovery.” Hux nods, swallowing something he’d rather keep hidden down.

“How long does he need to remain in the tank?” The man consults his data pad before giving a response.

“Ten hours,” Hux nods, his wrist band beeping with an urgent summons.

“Yes?”

“Sir, the Supreme Leader requests your presence in the holo chamber at once.” Hux’s blood ices over but he remains calm, leaving Ren with one more longing glance before stepping out into the hall. He inhales deeply before shrugging his great coat over the tear in his uniform, trying to remain at ease while passing officers and nodding a perfunctory acknowledgement to any saluting personnel. He enters the holo chamber which was smaller than that of the one on Starkiller Base yet still large, tugging his last glove on as Snoke’s projection considers him like piercing blades from every angle. The presence is more eviscerating without Ren attendant.

“What are your summons, Supreme Leader?” Hux asks stiffly, focusing his mind to a needle’s point, intentionally clearing it of anything damning. The silence that follows is almost as cutting as the words that come next.

“The _Finalizer_ is no longer required to deliver Ren personally. I have arranged for something different. Remain at the rendezvous point until explicit instructions reveal otherwise. You will be getting a visit general. In light of your previous… inadequacies, I believe it’ll be refreshing.” Hux allows no emotion to traipse over his icy exterior, nodding gratefully despite the feeling of losing something vital spreading within him. It isn’t so much of a loss as discovering something unwanted that had been there all along.

“Yes, Supreme Leader. I await any further orders.” Hux bows only his head, something that sends a peel of disgust through him that he isn’t sure if Snoke has sensed, yet the massive hologram chuckles darkly. Nothing about the sound of it is pleasant. “If you’d like an update, sir, I’d be happy to-”

“That is not necessary. I know everything I wish to, general. Nothing escapes my notice.” With that the hologram dissipates until Hux is staring into the darkness, the blood draining from his face. He can’t stand there another moment, dashing out and finding the nearest washroom he can retreat into. He dry heaves into a toilet, his gut twisted like a rope inside him. Snoke’s sudden entrance into his mind and tearing departure held something from him for a moment. He feels as if his mind was not in his body, flung across the universe and restored but with a piece carefully sliced away and consumed by the phantom that sits upon his cruel throne. Hux gasps shallowly, clutching at his abdomen as the pain slowly ebbs, leaving him shivering and rubbing his hands along his arms to restore some heat to his body.

“General, we need you to come to the bridge.” Gaila speaks through the comm band and Hux rises unsteadily, exiting the stall to stand clenching the sink tightly in his hands.

“I will be up there immediately, thank you Commander.” He responds, ending their conversation as he splashes cold water on his face.

 _What the hell had just happened?_ Hux’s breathing steadies after a minute more and he turns, marching towards the lift. He’s had updates on Ren’s condition sent to his data pad and he checks it now on his way to the lift, disheartened by the fact that he still has nine hours left until Ren’s annoying presence can intervene into his life again.

Once he arrives on the bridge, he issues repairs, his normal duties pushed to the far edges of his mind as he works to get his ship back into shape. The death toll is far less than that of the rebels; what a foolish attempt. That attack has done nothing to change the fate of the Hosnian system and was obviously a last ditch effort to try and destroy the First Order. It is an amusing action, seeing how their attack became a defeat. He aids in morale, visiting the med bays to personally assess the damage done. After he sees that through, he has a lonesome lunch in the mess hall, gazing out the large viewport while sipping tea.

“What a day,” Gaila arrives to sit beside Hux on one of the posh chairs, lighting a cigarette while watching another Star Destroyer cross their port bow. The fleet amassing near the moons of some nameless planet in the Unknown Regions fills Hux with a sense of accomplishment.

“Indeed,” Hux says, opting to light his own.

“I am hearing chatter on the waves,” Gaila murmurs, out of reach of the table behind them where privates are chuckling and talking loudly.

“Of what sort?” Hux whispers back, leaning slightly toward her. She removes her command cap and places it on her lap, sighing and not saying more as a party of three lieutenants stand before the window for some time engaging in idle conversation as he does so with Marlana. She had been in the cadet program with Hux growing up, as close to a friend as he can recall at the moment- most likely the only person that fits under that title in Hux’s life. She’d been assigned to the Finalizer five years ago and after rekindling their old companionship he’d promoted her to his second in command. She is genuinely beautiful, her blue skin dotted with freckles and pronounced facial bones. Her red eyes scan open space, seering and often authoritative. She usually keeps her hair pinned up in a braided bun instead of regulation style and Hux has let it slide, knowing a small amount of individuality isn’t always bad. If he weren’t strictly interested in men he’d be attracted to her as his father thought he should have been when he was a teenager despite her not being human. She is the daughter of the prestigious Grand Admiral Thrawn and member of the Chiss Ascendency Admiral Ar’alani, rising quickly in the academy as well as in the ranks due to her heritage and her knowledge on the Unknown Regions. Her home planet is Csilla which Hux is familiar with because of the remaining pockets of officers that retreated there after the destruction of the second Death Star including himself and his father. It aided in establishing the Order’s presence there when they were rebuilding after the Empire.

“Someone will be paying us a visit.” She confesses after their alone again. Her eyes have always been striking to him, peeling away the layers of coldness hardening his gaze as she forces this news into him.

“Like who?” Hux asks and she looks away, back out to space.

“I am getting a sense that they are majorly respected among the Order. There aren’t many that outrank you, are there?” She inquires and Hux nods thoughtfully, already running through the options in his head like a list branded on his brain tissue.

“Only three, to my recollection. They’re all older,” Hux sniffs, straightening his posture as he feels a tide of dread immerse his contemplation. “I can’t tell you the details because I do not have them, but I thought I’d warn you Armitage.” Not many use his first name as he’d surely have them demoted, but Marlana is an exception. Their history is too fraught with knowledge they know about each other that ever remains unspoken to feel discontent about something so minor.

“I appreciate any news, of course.” He smiles tightly. This discovery lines up too accurately with Snoke’s announcement and Hux feels an icy chill curl in his stomach at the realization. He isn’t sure what’s about to happen next, but he’s prepared to face it head on despite the ridiculous terror he feels…

“I want to convey to you my sincerest gratitude for rescuing me on Starkiller, it means a lot to me. You have my undying loyalty, General, as well as my everlasting friendship.” He feels a flush rise to his cheeks and nods, reaching out to shake her hand.

“What ever would I do without my second in command?” He chuckles softly.

The rest of the cycle is spent in quiet apprehension. He constantly checks his data pad for notifications on Ren’s recovery but only finds that he’s counting the seconds until Ren comes out of the bacta. He sits at his desk in his office mulling through report after report with no real motivation to carry out the process with his highest performance. He dozes lightly, going on thirty hours without sleep when an incessant noise sounds from his comm band. He shakes his head, blinking the haze of exhaustion from his eyes as he acknowledges the source of the noise, slinging his greatcoat over his shoulders before marching down to the bridge. He sighs, entering the bridge as the source of all his trepidation manifests itself as Vice Admiral Chandra Arkony, facing the expansive vacuum of oblivion through the recently repaired viewports.

“Admiral, I didn’t expect you to arrive on my ship.” Hux remarks as she turns. Her hair is a platinum blonde that disappears into her command cap, her pointed nose aimed at him as if it is a weapon. She regards him with cold, calculating scrutiny, her young features the only disadvantage of her appearance. She is a seasoned military officer and still looks as she did fifteen years ago when she was commanding the Order’s first flagship when Hux was still a lowly lieutenant and even then unpopularyly aiding Fleet Admiral Gallius Rax in the battle of Jakku before his death. The name brings up memories he would rather keep at bay.

“You were meant not to,” She bites back, marching toward him in her black uniform. He stands stiff, keeping up appearances around his bridge crew while they put great effort into looking engrossed in their work.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of being your host then, Vice Admiral?” She gives him a stern warning look probably meant to subdue the sarcastic tone of his voice. She can’t be here for a good reason, and Hux is willing to ge to the bottom of it to discern the true nature of Snoke’s orders.

“The Supreme Leader declared that _I_ will be taking up primary command of this ship, effective immediately.” She says and Hux freezes in place, his heart seeming to stop altogether as the full weight of her words drops through the hull like some kind of hail of enemy fire. The bridge crew stops all function and with a cursory glance over from Arkony they resume work rather hastily, busying themselves while still listening intently.

“I was not informed of this,” Hux mutters as soon as he’s sure she can hear him speak at a low enough volume. She sneers at him, turning her back once again as she stares longingly up at the window that his office is nestled in. He wants to growl and rip her throat out for even considering the implications that position would entail.

“Well, after your incompetence with Starkiller Base, Supreme Leader Snoke believes you are no longer capable of receiving orders or giving them for that matter,” She says, walking towards the lift and he marches behind her, malice slipping from every crevice of his rational mind and into his actions. Gaila gives him a sympathetic stare which seems to suggest she feels to blame for this and he holds eye contact with her until the door closes. Arkony inputs the floor holding the medical bay and Hux cannot control the sneer that twitches onto his face. She notices and chuckles softly, resuming her normal posture.

“Really, Armitage, without Sloane to protect you anymore you’re nothing more than a sniffling child. You no longer have a band of adolescents protecting you-”

“I will no longer stand to listen to your insolence!” He growls, pointing a finger in her face. The door has opened and several troopers and officers watch the display warily. He inhales sharply, drawing back while straightening his coat around his shoulders. She laughs again, more darkly.

“And Supreme Leader’s orders are proving to be more and more valid every second.” She leaves the lift, Hux mustering every ounce of strength he can to not lose his cool. His crew are still staring at him and he snaps his ravenous gaze onto them to which they jolt back to their duties.

He leaves her to stroll through the ship on her own, annoyed and angry and seeking some kind of comfort. His desire for such treatment leads him to once again stand before Ren’s bacta tank, looking longingly into it before closing his eyes.

“Sometimes you’re not all that bad,” Hux murmurs, pressing his hand up to the glass before departing to return to his own quarters. When he does he strips out of his uniform, too tired to shower and too tired to move after he’s slumped onto the mattress. The lights are still at forty percent and yet he curls under the sheets in his modest sized bed, just big enough to stretch out his arms and lengths. Hux sighs, swallowing thickly and willing himself not to dwell on the instruments of the universe and what they have in store for him next.

He’s marching down the halls of the _Finalizer_ , the hallways long and empty as a white cape swirls behind him. He happens upon his quarters, looking for something he isn’t sure he’ll find. His eyes fall upon a scene that chills him to his very core.

“Now, now, don’t move.” It’s his voice except… it isn’t him. There he is, brushing his fingers over Ren’s jaw, cradling it from behind to avoid Ren’s gaze.

“But why…?” Ren murmurs and the not Hux tssks, flashing his eyes up to Hux’s. They’re the most eerie thing he’s ever seen, filled with nothing but black dotted here and there with flecks that appear to be stars.

“Because, you can’t trust what you’re looking at, can you? Not even yourself.” The thing moves towards him, eyes spreading into limbs that elongate, dripping black liquid that burns through the durasteel floor. The thing’s jaw opens and hundreds of teeth decorate a mouth that shouldn’t be able to open that far. Ren looks at the scene, staring at the real Hux in anger before standing.

“What are you doing here?” Ren comes side by side with the Hux that is quickly morphing into something else, some evil thing that doesn’t have a name anywhere in any place and not even within the confines of Hux’s mind.

“Kill him. He doesn’t love you. He never did.” The thing hisses, Ren drawing his lightsaber from his belt. Hux backs into the hall, chest heaving with panic as Ren leaves the door first, his saber ignited.

“I trusted you!” Ren roars, slashing clumsily and missing Hux. He narrowly avoids the next swing and falls onto the floor, scrambling back against the viewport.

“What did I do?!” Hux cries fearfully, tears pooling in his eyes as Ren’s eyes show him his reflection. He’s not him anymore either. He’s some frail old creature with no hair, pale skin, a scar splitting his head in two.

“You lied to me. About everything! Give him back!” Ren drives his saber through Hux’s chest, leaving him gasping in the sudden searing pain. “Give me Hux back!” He jerks awake, crying out and scrambling away from the dark figure that has appeared at the end of his bed like some kind of horror holofilm. The shadow moves back a step before Hux speaks.

“Lights, one hundred percent!” He shivers and feels a full body wave of warmth when he realizes it’s only Ren, his shoulder bandaged and a shocked expression on his face.

“Hux… are you alright?” Ren murmurs and Hux tries to collect himself, his breathing shifting dramatically from somewhat calm to extensive panic. To his surprise Ren crawls across the bed, sitting behind him and tucking Hux inside his embrace, long legs bent around him like a fortress. “Lights, thirty percent.” Ren calls and the overheads dim to a soft glow. “What happened?” Ren tries after some time of just holding him. Hux tried to count to one hundred and tell Ren he didn’t need to be coddled like an infant but he’s well past that now.

“I just had a dream, is all…” Hux mutters, taking a drag from a cigarette he’d had lying beside his bed. The smoke curls in his lungs and soothes away some of the unease from the nightmare.

“So obviously, a bad one.” Ren says and Hux huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Well if it were a good one I wouldn’t have acted like a scared child, would I have?” Ren chuckles and presses his nose to the nape of his neck, alerting the skin there as it rises in bumps.

“I’m glad I got here then. You know, it’s strange…” Ren yammers and Hux cocks an eyebrow.

“What is?” Ren brushes his hands across Hux’s chest softly in circles, not enough to get him hard and clearly staying away from his chest. Ren is soothing him.

“I could feel your distress. As soon as I got out of the tank I could sense something wasn’t right and so I came here.” Ren whispers and Hux turns to look at him slightly in disbelief.

“You came like that?” Hux asks incredulously. He decides to leave the sensing of things to another time.

“Well I arrived in all of my robes, they’re all over your entree way actually.” Ren confesses and Hux tuts in annoyance, squirming out of Ren’s grip to put out the cigarette before lying down beside his body.

“Of course they are.” Ren lies down on his side, the two of them not touching just yet except staring which Hux supposes acts like another touch entirely. It’s Ren who moves first, fingers brushing over Hux’s shoulder before moving to his side. His attentions there are soft and have some kind of sweet energy, another thing Hux is not used to. He brushes it off though, closing his eyes and letting the weight of the day place itself somewhere else.

“I heard what happened,” Ren speaks after some time when Hux believes he’s drifted off to sleep.

“Did you,” Hux murmurs, clearly uninterested.

 _I’m sorry. Snoke must have his reasons._ This is enough to have him open his eyes. The boiling rage there is unintentional and because he’s had no where he can place it all day to which he might be killed or demoted further he pushes Ren off his bed.

“Out.” He growls and Ren looks shocked but almost infuriated.

“What did I do?” He asks, throwing his arms up angrily and Hux turns his chin, looking out the viewport above his bed.

“Search my mind, clearly you’re good at that kind of non consensual intrusion.” Hux ignores Ren’s snarling and keeps his gaze fixated on one distant star until Ren leaves the room, slipping out into the hallway. Hux huffs, frowning and pressing his thumbs into the insides of his thighs, wincing at the pain but unwilling to relent. He’s done this ever since he was a child, an outlet on which to release all of his rage and anger without inflicting it somewhere it would show. There was one time he’d learned that lesson and it was when he was telling his father he didn’t like something he was given to eat. He must have been around three or four, before they lived on the _Imperialis_ when he’d protested some stupid food choice on his tray and his father had struck him hard on the cheek leaving a red mark. He’d never spoken again about such things, his father’s eyes going straight back to his data pad as if nothing had happened after he’d yelled at Hux to not be so picky, to respect what he got. After that he’s learned to keep his hostility deep within him and permanent bruises have formed on the insides of his knees from the pressing there over the past thirty two years.

He sleeps through the rest of the night, waking and standing above his mirror when he’s exited the shower, wet hair hanging in front of his eyes. He brushes his hair with the fine toothed comb he’d bought at some trivial booth in a space station about three years ago, the material made of illegal bantha horn. He isn’t wasteful, and he doesn’t see the value in letting species go extinct for the sake of greed but this comb is the one indulgent thing in his life and he’d only gotten it because the one thing he remembered about his mother is that she used to brush his hair with a comb of the exact same make. He’s never found out what became of her after they’d left Arkanis due to Rebellion occupation and probably never will. She is most likely six feet under in some unmarked grave, covered in mud just like Brendol is now.

He doesn’t know what to expect when he leaves his rooms, donning his freshly pressed uniform, gloves, command cap and all. His arms fold behind his back and he walks with as much dignity as he can muster which is as always, a great deal. Just before he reaches the bridge, strolling down an extensive corridor, Ren materializes at his side and his appearance which Hux did not have time to examine in the previous cycle is striking.

“You’re… wearing a-”

“Cape, yes general. It resembles my grandfather’s. Not unlike the flourish of your coat there, I must admit.” Ren doesn’t bother warming his tone around Hux in public which is, of course, gratifying. He supposes he’s lucky Ren doesn’t express the details of their one night together to the entire crew. “I could be telling everyone how I made you moan my name like it was a godsend and you’d never know.” Hux sniffs as Ren leans in close, the bridge doors opening. Damn that his scar makes his idiotic face look even more attractive.

“Ren, get away-”

“I will do as I please.” He walks beside Hux as they march onto the bridge, standing before the viewports.

“Sir,” Hux turns when he hears Phasma’s voice, her chrome armor reflecting the light of the sun off in the distance.

“Yes, Captain?” She moves closer to him, sighing through the vocal modulator.

“I don’t like the… situation unfolding, General.” She whispers and Hux stiffens, unsure as to what she’s proposing.

“And which situation is that?” He asks, letting a little ice perforate his tone as to show that her disrespect for the Vice Admiral, no matter how similarly he feels, will not to be tolerated.

“This new chain of command, sir. Vice Admiral Arkony has demoted me. I am no longer a captain.” Hux frowns and looks at her seriously as Ren does and her expression is, of course, unreadable.

“ _What_?” Hux bites out and she sighs again.

“I’m now a lieutenant commander. She brought her own captain along.” Phasma turns away for a moment and then nods, walking down the catwalk away from the two of them. Hux feels his rage surge again and he looks at Ren, jerking his chin towards a private consult room off the side of the bridge. Surprisingly, Ren follows and Hux marches briskly with anger towards the room. He looks up before closing the doors, his once private office now occupied by Arkony as she stands looking straight into him with a wicked smile.

“Is this room bugged.” Hux whispers to Ren as soon as the door is closed, unable to tame the wild thrashing of his gut.

“Yes, one moment.” Ren stares at one corner of the ceiling and his eyes narrow on the spot, concentration furrowing his brow before he meets Hux’s gaze. “It’s now reporting a malfunction. A technician won’t report it because she needs to keep it under wraps. She won’t risk it.” Ren sighs, looking at Hux with a strange kind of appraisal before Hux launches immediately into an explanation of everything he cannot fathom that’s occurred over the past seventy two hours or so.

“I need to know if I can trust you,” Hux murmurs and Ren who’s been shockingly silent the entire time continues looking at Hux as if he’s a paused hologram. “Ren, please.” He blinks and looks around at nothing in particular in the dimmed room, grey upon grey upon grey.

“Hux… what you’re describing… it’s treason.” Ren says and Hux feels something in his chest drop fifty leagues below into some locked part of him, for now tucked away. Hux narrows his eyes to hateful slits and he’s actually astonished by Ren’s startled discovery of this.

“Then I cannot. Of course, I knew all along. You’re just his watch dog, nothing more than an obedient servant with nothing to show for it! You killed your father, and what? I don’t see you any stronger than you were before!” Ren lifts a hand and Hux feels his vocal chords constricting around his throat, warning alarms blaring in his mind as he starts to feel a panic rise in his chest. Ren moves closer, his breath hitting Hux’s neck as he lifts him into the air, the tip of his boots barely touching the floor.

“I have given you the benefit of the doubt for too long, general! I am tired of your outbursts and I am going to make something clear right now: I could kill you, easily. So easily. And yet I let you live. You speak things of my master you have no idea of and you claim to know more than the Force itself simply because you do not believe in it. You’re just like all of the others, you think you’re safe from it but the Force is all around you and you’ll never escape it so best you know now what it can do to you with a simple command upon the slightest whim if you continue down this path.” Ren release his chokehold on Hux, letting him fall to the floor in a mess of weary tears, head tilted towards the ground as he fights the moisture back down, gasping and swallowing gulps of air even as his throat burns in pain. He’s hyperventilating and trying his best to regain a thought process that doesn’t scream fight or flight, pressing a hand over his chest. After some minutes Ren begins to leave and Hux reaches out for the cape, his heart skipping a beat when Ren stays. He’d just threatened his life, has no obligation to help Hux stand and as soon as he’s sure he won’t topple over he inhales deeply, avoiding Ren’s eyes and with a sudden wave of feral hunger he swoons in and captures Ren’s lips in a kiss, not waiting for access as he pries his mouth open, sweeping his tongue across Ren’s.

He isn’t sure why he’s doing this, and even less sure why Ren is allowing it. He doesn’t move, his biceps twitch under Hux’s gloves and Hux whimpers desperately, feeling more tears pool in his eyes.

“Move, damnitt Ren, do something!” Hux cries in anguish, punching Ren’s shoulders weakly while weeping into the fabric of his black tunic, hands clenched at his sides when he gives up assuming Ren will react. They stay like this for some time, Hux slipping his cap off and tucking it against his chest before discarding it on the floor, wrapping his arms around Ren’s statue like form, unmoving and stonelike. Finally Hux starts to pull away, knowing he’ll have to face the entire crew with a flushed face and puffy eyes, turning from Ren and feeling a white hot brand of shame cross his forehead when he stares at the cap on the floor. How’d he let himself… cry? How had that happened? Hux hiccups around a breath, breathing more normally and he sniffles and turns, Ren still standing there looking at him expressionlessly.

“I suppose… I have no need of you any further then.” Hux murmurs as he fixes his cap, trying to cover as much of his face as possible as he wipes a black handkerchief over his cheeks before tucking it safely away in the interior breast pocket. Ren blinks at him and Hux feels the urge to punch his face this time. “I believe I knew all this time, how futile any encounter with you would possibly persevere after one mistake of a night.” Hux whispers.

“Mistake…” Ren echoes and Hux is genuinely wary of him now. “That’s what you think this is?” Ren asks, his voice rising in volume with each word and Hux stands firm, not willing to flinch away this time. Let Ren kill him, what more is left for him anyways.

“I’m not even sure what _this_ is, Ren!” Hux gestures widely, too exhausted already with the events of this cycle. Suddenly he’s tired and can’t think straight.

“Meet me in my quarters at twenty two hundred hours. For your sake, I suggest you do it.” He leaves then and Hux is sure the surveillance is back on in the room. He’s at least regained the regular pallor of his to a better extent and he stares into the corner Ren was, glaring at whatever is there and letting a salacious smirk slide onto his lips. Better Arkony think he has something on her rather than appear as if he’d just fallen apart on the floor and weeped as he clung to Ren’s cape.

He marches out onto the bridge, ignoring his old office windows as he steps up onto the catwalk, standing beside Gaila with the entire universe sprawled out before him like a warning not to get too close to something he can never hope to control...

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: The title is a song by one of my favorite artists, Volbeat. If you want to read the lyrics [here](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/volbeat/thedevilsbleedingcrown.html) it's a good example for how this first part will go! Especially the part with the children outside the church which reminds me of Ben massacring the padawans at the Jedi Temple Luke founded. I am not religious but I think a moral personification would be Snoke being as evil as the devil and so forth... enjoy! It's a heavy rock song so if you're into that then we share an interest in that as well and not only these evil space boyfriends and Star Wars!


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